


The Blade And Me

by Tyranno



Category: Bleach
Genre: :), Gen, Gift Fic, ichigo is a zanpakutou, zangetsu--ichigo role reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 21:54:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3705765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tyranno/pseuds/Tyranno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zangetsu never asked for the ability to see ghosts--he was born with the gift. Now Rukia Kuchiki is about to be executed for his mistake, and it seems like he's the only one who can help her. </p><p>Ichigo & Zangetsu role reversal oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Blade And Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kurgaya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurgaya/gifts).



Zangetsu Kurosaki was, unlike his name, quiet and subdued.

 

He was only four and already weirdly complacent. He lost his vision to the wild matt of black hair that flopped in front of his face. He was clumsy, tripping over his feet and skinning his knees; but he always stood up, determined even when his cheeks flushed hot.

 

Tatsuki rarely feels like fighting him—he leaps back onto his feet after every hit, he never pulls his punches or settled for only one fight. He rarely smiled. He always wanted more; bigger swings, harder hits, longer fights. Zangetsu wanted to have to fight for his life, and it was more than a little unnerving.

 

Zangetsu was a brilliant sparring partner, probably the best Tatsuki could hope for, if still very weak. He pushed and pushed against her skill, and she started to push back. She would try for the quick smiles he’d flash her as he was thrown again and again, more and more bruises cluttering his tiny body.

 

It was the only time he smiled, apart from, of course, when his mother came.

 

And then, he _beamed_.

 

 

*

 

 

It was raining hard that day. It had rained hard the day before, too. And the day before that. So the river was way up. But this girl was standing with no umbrella. Standing like she was deciding whether or not to jump.

 

Her hair shinned like an oil slick, blacks and blues as the rain poured over her in tides. She was no longer shivering.

 

His mother gripped his hand tighter as her gaze ghosted over the girl. She was worried, but her gaze returned to the horizon as if she hadn’t seen the girl. She was quiet.

 

“The rain’s getting heavier.” She said, as they came level with the young girl. It looked like she was trying to keep her eyes off them. “I hope your daddy packed a coat.”

 

Zangetsu never wanted to protect anyone but his family. His universe had no passing comets, or distant suns. He was not the open-hearted sort.

 

They pass the Grand Fisher without incident.

 

 

*

 

 

A worn coin on a chain rests in Zangetsu’s pale palm. He holds it out.

 

It is a nice day. The sky is blindingly blue, the grass is brilliant green, and even the air is sweet from the slightly grubby flowering plants along the riverbank. The stone overpass’s heavy shadow is cool on their backs. Zangetsu’s universe has had a passing comet.

 

Zangetsu pours the medallion into the other’s hand as carefully as he can. He takes a step back as the other rises unsteadily.

 

“Yasutora Sado,” The guy introduces himself after a short and slightly awkward silence.

 

“Kurosaki Zangetsu.” He says quietly. He turns and begins to walk away.

 

As his ankles brush the muddy flowers, Zangetsu stops, raising his head. “Sado...”

 

Sado’s head jerks up, eyes peeping from a mop not unlike Zangetsu’s. His elbows are still bent slightly, and he is a little mucky around the knees.

 

“Know that... if you don’t fight for something, you could lose it. Judge the loss against the harm.”

 

 

*

 

 

Someone quiet comes through his bedroom window, stepping in as easily as if it was ground-level.

 

Zangetsu watches her through the corner of his eye. She is small, and a little thin looking, with some kind of sword tucked inside ancient robes. Who robs a house looking like a codsplayer?

 

She looks right at him as he gets up, and doesn’t take note of him. He crosses the room, hesitantly, checking for hidden cameras because surely this was some kind of reality tv-program, and gets closer.

 

Zangetsu moves in a blur, sweeping her legs from under her and tossing her sword across the room. He pins her to the floor before she has time to react.

 

“What the—” She splutters, jerking around and trying to dislodge him. Not going to happen. “Who are you?!” She asks loudly.

 

Zangetsu fixes her with a hard look.

 

“Hey! I’m talking to you!” She snarls, trying to push her arms out without success. She glares at him, hard. “A-are you another shinigami in a gigai or something? I’ll have you know I’m a lieutenant and I’ll whoop your ass for trespassing as soon as you _GET-OFF-ME_!!”

 

Zangetsu shifts his weight, but keeps his gaze level. “You’re a shinigami?”

 

“You’re not?” She asks, a little unnerved. Her voice is slightly hesitant. “I mean—yes, I am!”

 

“Liar.”

 

His cold gaze reminds her too much of her brother, and she twists suddenly to the right, freeing up a leg to kick him, _hard_. He is sent reeling for long enough for her to press her fingers like a gun to his chest.

 

“Binding spell, the first; sai!!”

 

Zangetsu’s body freezes, spine snapping back. He flops down like a death thing, eyes wide in shock.

 

“Take that you little snot.” The girl grins, and towers over him. “So what are you, you’re human right?”

 

Zangetsu watches her. “Yes. For now.”

 

 

*

 

 

**_Can you hear me, Zangetsu?_ **

 

Zangetsu’s eyes flickered open, and he pushed himself upwards. He was sitting— _sitting_ —on the wall of a complex, marble cathedral. A mottled stone gargoyle glared across a collection of grey roses. A swirl of reds seemed to move in and out of focus in the pearly arch under him.

 

He stumbled upwards, nearly tripping over the stone folds. The heavy wind nearly dragged him down. He span around, eyes wide.

 

**_Over here._ **

 

Zangetsu looked up.

 

A teenager stood at the crest of a collection of aging cherubs. His face was all sharp lines; a sharp chin, a sharp scowl and a sharper gaze. His head was crowned with an explosion of intensely orange hair.

 

“Who...?” Zangetsu started, but his voice died.

 

The teenager grinned a little, scowl softening. **_I’m ______._**

 

“...sorry, I didn’t catch that.” Zangetsu took a few steps forward, peering up at the teenager. He seemed to be standing vertically, looking down at him.

 

The teenager sighed, and squatted, curling hands over the cherub’s pudgy arms. **_Still can’t hear me, eh?_**

 

Zangetsu took a few more steps up, squinting. He did a little jump, but gravity didn’t seem to remember him. “Where am I?” He scowled, “And who— _what_ are you? I was—...”

 

The teenager grinned, teeth flashing. **_Full of questions today, aren’t we? How about ‘how come you can stand in a place like that?’_**

****

Zangetsu’s feet lost traction. He scrambled for purchase, but he was tumbling. Gravity dragged him with iron fingers and he felt like he was going to throw up. He screamed.

 

The teenager was suddenly running alongside him, hair shinning like sunlight. He grinned. **_Listen, you could stand on air and stuff as a Shinigami, couldn’t you?_**

 

Zangetsu kicked the air, foot catching painfully on a stone arm. “I lost my powers!!” He shouted, trying to catch the teenager’s flowing robes.

 

The teenager’s grin seemed to split his face in two. **_Nah, you lost the ones you stole, you still have your own._**

 

“ _My—_ ” Zangestu span in the air, flipping over himself. He could see the cathedral crumbling as the sky descended, hailing chunks of near squares and a terrible ripping sound.

 

 ** _See these boxes?_** The teenager snatched one from the air, squishing it between a finger and thumb, and tossing it back. **_I’m in one of them._**

 

“But you’re right here!” Zangetsu yelled desperately.

 

 ** _I guess I am. But I’m still in one of these._** The teenager started to snatch them from the air and toss them Zangetsu’s way, all of which Zangetsu failed to catch. **_Here’s a tip, use the ribbons._**

 

“Ribbo—?!” Zangetsu’s words were swallowed but a cascade of icy water that rose around them like a curtain closing.

 

.

 

..

 

...

 

A beat.

 

Kisuke Urahara peered down the hole, batting his chin with a fan. It was taking too long. A mask had already encased the boy’s head, silky black and rimmed with white, teeth sharp as knives.

 

White light exploded across the underground, a body was thrown like a searing red ragdoll, rebounding across the painted sky, crashing into the dust.

 

Jinta Hanakari’s meet trembled in the dirt, peering into the ragtails of white cloth and pale.

 

Something bloodcurdling stepped out.

 

 

*

 

 

“Well...” Urahara’s glare hardened, “All you have to do is knock my hat off. Maybe you can do that with only a hilt. But I warn you... This isn’t about courage anymore. Before you go on, know this...”

 

Zangetsu quavered, and glared harder, tightening his grip on the worn, broken hilt. The string was unwinding; the wood was coming apart in his hands. He was holding a butter knife against a chainsaw.

 

“If you try to fight me with that toy... I _will_ kill you.”

 

Zangetsu sprinted, heart jumping in his chest. _I’m dead! He’ll kill me! For real!_

 

The shop keeper’s shadow stretched across the dirt and Zangetsu changed directions with a stumble, almost tipping over.

 

Zangetsu’s steps jolted his body, shaking his head and sending his heart juddering in his chest.

 

**_Pathetic._ **

 

Zangetsu ducked as a sword swing almost decapitated him, spinning on his feet as he darted around a boulder.

 

**_Don’t you want to save your friend? Don’t you care?_ **

 

Zangetsu felt a hand snatch at his collar and throw him to the floor. He twisted blindly as a sword crashed into his afterimage.

 

**_Rukia will die alone. Betrayed. You are weak._ **

****

Zangetsu darted forward as dust exploded in his wake.

 

**_Don’t you long to fight?_ **

 

**_Can’t you hear it? Can’t you hear_ me _?_**

****

Zangetsu’s head jerked up, and his footfalls thudded heavier and heavier in his ears. He skidded to a halt. Heart thumping louder and louder in his ears.

 

**_Advance. Don’t give an inch. Cut him down. Shout—_ **

 

Zangetsu turned, eyes like fire.

 

**_—My name!!_ **

****

“ ** _Ichigo!!!_** ” Zangetsu yelled.

 

...

 

..

 

.

 

Urahara Kisuke raised his eyebrows. His temporary student held flat, wide blade with a jagged, serrated edge. The wide hilt seemed almost orange-tinged, which at first seemed to be rust but Urahara realised it was actually sparse gold plate. Fancy.

 

Despite himself, Urahara pressed a fan to his nose. “Your Zanpakutô’s name is _strawberry_?”

 

Zangetsu’s gaze was cold, but indifferent. “Evade as best you can, because this blade may take your head.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was inspired by Kurgaya's great stories about the same topic. I really liked Zang as a character and his role as ichigo's mentor, and I really liked his cool-ass speeches about fear, but he sort of disappeared after a while, along with ichigo's still-human friends, and I kind-of miss them. They were a good supporting cast. 
> 
> Title from BLEACH chapter 66. which has one of my favourite covers (they're all my favourite)


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